


Virtues and Virgins (only one of them is built to last)

by The_Readers_Muse



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types, Walking Dead
Genre: Eric sassing off Daryl about electric cars because hey why not, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Spoilers for 5x11 "The Distance", Tara and Eric being fist bump bros, discussion of broken bones and injury, drugged up humor, light slash, prompt fill for gunslingerdixon, sassy!eric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 16:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3453881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Readers_Muse/pseuds/The_Readers_Muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He's one of those purists. Has absolutely no tolerance for painkillers, or anything else for that matter," he added, thoughts lingering on one rather memorable time that included a bottle of red wine, a broken table lamp and a movie neither one of them ended up seeing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Virtues and Virgins (only one of them is built to last)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gunslingerdixon](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=gunslingerdixon).



> Disclaimer: I don't own AMC's The Walking Dead or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.
> 
> Authors Note #1: This story is meant to fit into the canon events of 5x11 and to explore what might have happened the morning after the group was reunited before they set out for the ASZ. This is an Aaric (Aaron/Eric) fic and was inspired by gunslingerdixon's prompt: "rust bucket."
> 
> Warnings: Spoilers for 5x11 "The Distance." *Contains: adult language, adult content, discussion of broken bones and minor injury, prescription drug use for injuries, references to an established relationship, sassy!Eric and drugged up humor.

" _-you lost the license plates."_

" _I lost the car…"_

" _Maybe it's for the best. That monstrosity out front can run, it's so ugly it'll scare the roamers away."_

* * *

"Wow, you weren't kidding," he remarked, eyeing the ugly looking rust bucket that had the nerve to call itself a car as he helped Eric out onto the road. Joining the others milling around the RV. Most of them still eating breakfast and clumped up in pairs as they watched them carefully – suspiciously - under the guise of doing other things. "It  _does_  look like shit."

"And it has a malfunctioning emergency brake," Eric added, breathing labored and uneven as he leaned against him, shielding his eyes as the early morning sun beat down with a vengeance. Hopping awkwardly as he tried to get used to being vertical again. Bare toes skimming through the gravel as the baby let go of a fussy cry.

"Have I mentioned how much I miss my Tesla?" Eric groaned, slightly whinging, as he shouldered both their packs and nudged him off the stoop.

"Only about seventy-five times since that taxi backed into you at the airport," he remarked fondly. Well aware they had a growingly interested audience as he steered Eric towards the RV.

"You had a Tesla?" Tara piped up, making him jump as she exited the warehouse behind them and offered her arm. Making so they could support Eric between them as they adopted a three-legged race sort of rhythm. Covering ground more smoothly then before as the pained frown that had taken up residence on his lover's forehead gradually eased.

"Weren't they supposed to be like, well, really  _really_  expensive?" she asked, black hair swinging in front of her face before she tucked it behind her ear with a practiced flick.

"Not _that_  expensive," Eric returned, smiling broadly, starting to slur slightly as the pain killers took effect. "Besides, they were meant to save you money in the long run, anyway."

"Pretty rich coming from a trust-fund baby," he said with a snort, squeezing his hand affectionately.

" _Ex_ -trust-fund baby," Eric corrected promptly. "My folks cut me off when I came out," he explained. His reeling grin stubbornly infectious as Tara nodded, grinning back like it was the easiest thing in the world as they reached the front steps and jostled around. Trying to figure out how best to boost him up as Daryl watched impassively from the driver's seat.

"Anyway, that car deserved a sonnet. It was stream-lined perfection personified," Eric hummed, clicking his tongue as his boyfriend's over the top, dreamy expression made him roll his eyes. "Poor thing is probably still sitting at the garage, collecting dust. They were nearly done, just had to air-brush the paint job and-"

"How'd you crash it?" Tara asked curiously, falling behind a bit as the narrow stairway forced them to condense. Causing Eric to grab at the wall and hop awkwardly as he supported him from the other side.

"Picking  _himself_  up at the airport after  _someone_  didn't clear his last medical check before customs," Eric purred, leaning back against him shamelessly as they boosted him carefully up the RV's rickety steps.

"It was a low grade fever," he protested, uncertain of how he felt about it when he realized more than half the group was clearly eavesdropping now. "They were overreacting. I would have caught the next flight overseas and met up with the rest of-"

"And a good thing too, two days later they grounded all flights in the continental US," Eric commented breezily, acting like he hadn't said anything at all as a long fingered hand patted his chest consolingly. "You would have been stuck in Somalia with no way of-"

"You talkin' about them electric cars?" Daryl asked, breaking his accustomed silence suddenly, surprising both him and Tara as he peered over at them through the dark of his fringe. Index finger tapping idly at the steering wheel as Eric just nodded, completely guileless.

"Yep," he replied, popped the p-sound with playful pride. Swaying in place and holding back a yawn as the sun started making tracks in the sky. Glowing gently against the dusty blinds as he tried and failed to suppress a yawn of his own.

"Heard they were shit," the man grunted, nibbling on a hangnail as Eric's eyes narrowed and suddenly he wished he had a time machine because he knew  _exactly_  what was going to come out of Eric's mouth before he'd even so much as said it and-

"Let me guess, you were the type of guy that drove one of those gas-guzzling monstrosities? The kind with the big tires and over compensation issues?" Eric replied, syrupy sweet as Daryl arched a brow, clearly about to say something before Eric cut him off smoothly.

"No wait, I'll bet it was a bike, right? Something rugged, but clearly non-conformist – because really, look at you. So not a Harley then," Eric continued, long fingers ticking off the options like a check list. Either oblivious or encouraged by the fact that Tara was currently hunched over, wheezing with barely restrained laughter.

"Do you have any idea the fuel efficiency issues of both of them? The bike alone, for one it is impractical transport. Largely reliant on the weather and season, not to mention the fuel emissions-"

The conversation effectively ended when Daryl snorted and slouched out of the driver's seat. Making way for Abraham as he and Tara took the opportunity to budge Eric into the rear bedroom.

"You know…" It wasn't until they'd navigated him onto the small fold-down bed in the corner that Eric spoke again, propping himself up on his elbows to get a better look out the window and at the rust bucket in question.

"It's only redeeming quality is that it has a rather  _spacious_ back seat," Eric noted, brow arching suggestively as he reared back, spluttering on a breath as an embarrassed flush stole across his cheeks.

"Jesus Christ, Eric…" he groaned, half-despairing and half-laughing as the man just grinned up at him. Expression loose and open as he stretched out across the blankets. Basking like a house cat in a sunbeam and looking extremely pleased with himself as Tara giggled, nudging a couple of pillows underneath his injured ankle to elevate it.

"Sorry," he remarked sheepishly, grateful for Tara's eternally amused expression as he knuckled the back of his head and mock-glared down at the bed as Eric wriggled around, trying to get comfortable.

"He's one of those purists. Has absolutely no tolerance for painkillers, or anything else for that matter," he added, thoughts lingering on one rather memorable time that included a bottle of red wine, a broken table lamp and a movie neither one of them ended up seeing.

"My body is a temple," Eric muttered, yawning again. Clearly losing steam as he fussed around with the patchwork quilt someone had stuffed in the side compartment. Shaking it out with a thoughtful look as a couple week's worth of dust motes danced in the slatted-light.

"Yeah, well right now your 'temple's' back foundation is busted, so tough," he returned, well used to this particular argument as he shook the bottle of painkillers pointedly. "Speaking of which, it's time for your next dose."

"You know, he's got a point," Tara hummed, a couple of pills and half a bottle of water later. Looking from him, to Eric then back to the rusty car outside with a wicked expression.

"So much space for activities," she returned with a wink, eyes sparkling as Eric's face lit up like a flash-bulb, huffing with laughter as Tara leaned down for a fist-bump.

"Oh my god," Glenn groaned, faint and long suffering from somewhere out in the hall. "Can we go now?"

The laughter that followed seemed out of place amidst the moldering buildings and serious expressions. But considering the new beginning that was waiting for all of them at the end of the line, he couldn't help but think it appropriate.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Reference: Big thank you again to gunslingerdixon for collecting the dialogue between Aaron and Eric for me, from this episode.


End file.
